


How to try (and fail) to get rid of your Incubus in 10 days

by Neutralchaos



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Animal Abuse, Animal Transformation, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blow Jobs, Bondage, But he's a dick anyways, Character Death, Choking, Crack, Demon Hunters, Dream Sex, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Enemies to Lovers, Evil Alexander Pierce, Explicit Language, Face-Fucking, Flogging, Incubus Brock, Jack is cranky and tired and just wants some peace and quiet, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, So no one is sad about it, This Was Supposed To Be A One Shot, animal abandonment (but it's temporary), sort of, unsafe bdsm practices
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-14 22:31:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8031466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neutralchaos/pseuds/Neutralchaos
Summary: Jack has left home because he was sick and tired of killing off spirits over there and thought to himself... I don't hear a lot about demons in America... Maybe I can catch a break over there. Live a little more peacefully. Catch up on my reading. So he decides to move to America. But Surprise! There's a shit tonne more for demons and spirits over there. You don't hear about them because everyone just assumes that they're terrible people or like it's just normal behaviour (depending on where you live.) ... well fuckHe tries to ignore it... like don't they have people for this over here? Nope... not really.So Jack starts killing off all these demons that are causing problems, because it's really fucking hard for him to look the other way. and then he meets Brock.Brock is a asshole Incubus





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> @garotteandgoodnight is a terrible influence... and this is all her fault.

   Now see, When Jack left his home to come over to America, he really didn’t think that he would be spending most of his time offing demons. He didn’t think that most of the money he would make from odd jobs here and there, would be invested into salt, holy water, and making sure that his weaponry stayed in excellent shape. No. He thought that,  _  maybe _ he might be able to catch a break for once in his damn life. America was supposed to be better. The  Kikokiko had been running rampant for the last few years and Jack was tired of getting rid of them. Well, he was just tired, he had been hunting down demons and spirits for most of his life. So he starts thinking of moving somewhere else, somewhere where maybe demons and spirits aren’t as abundant and in his research he finds that, while yeah, America does have  _ some _ reports of hauntings and creatures that go bump in the night, a lot of it is… well, made up.  There isn’t really any proof of any of it being real, So he packs up, says goodbye to his  Kuia, stocks up on some good books to read to kill the time and moves to America.

  Only once he gets there, he quickly finds out that, while most  _ reported  _ incidents of hauntings are a bunch of bullshit, there are a tonne of less than benevolent creatures that are sneaky enough to now draw any attention to themselves. Yeah. They’re fucking everywhere. Your asshole racist neighbour that managed to ruin every single neighbourhood event that anyone has ever organised? He’s an imp. He’s also not actually racist but he is an asshole that hates people in general. That politician that seems to think that the 1800’s were a great time with all the slavery and disease? That’s a demon that wants to watch the world burn. Also very hard to get rid of quietly because Jack really does not want to see the inside of a prison cell in this country ever again, so sorry, you’re stuck with that bag of dicks for bit longer. 

  The point is, Jack really tried not to get involved. He thought that  _ maybe _ with this many Rewera, that there would some kind of system for taking care of it. He thought that there would Other People, that would deal with all of this. Only.. there isn’t. Yeah, you have some of the churches that still believe, and will do exorcisms every so often, but other than that there’s nothing.  He tried really hard, to pretend like he was just another sheep in the flock of ignorant masses, he really did. Until he caught a Mara preying on a bunch of kids in the little town he decided to try and call home. He took one look at the bags underneath their eyes, the way they’re shaking because they can’t get warm, they way they list around with no energy to play and goes home to gather up his supplies to get rid it.

  From there he falls back into a rhythm of sorts. Honestly he’s a little surprised how easy he found it to get back into it. Sure there are a lot more different kinds of beasties over here than there were back home, but thanks to modern technology it’s a lot easier to find ways to get rid of them. Although there are times when he will spend a day or two stuck inside some old dusty tomb, having to very carefully peruse through some poor fucker’s diary, so he can get some accurate information on some obscure creature (he makes sure that those ones suffer. He  _ hates _ the days of coughing and sneezing that always follow that.).

  As much as he might complain about it, there is the upside of it forces him to get up off his ass and travel. He makes sure to stop and do sightseeing wherever he ends up. He does not see the appeal for some of them. Like the world’s biggest ball of yarn? What a waste of time. He avoids the larger cities too. While they’re great for gathering supplies, they’re also noisy and crowded. Not just with humans either, but the creatures that lurk in the cities for the most part are just trying to blend in. they don’t want to cause any undue trouble and just want to be left alone. They find humanity  _ fun _ . So even though Jack doesn’t understand that reasoning, he does understand that they aren’t a danger to the people around them (mostly), so he leaves them alone. Besides, Jack can order damn near everything online. Ordering his refresher supplies also gives him more of an excuse to go home once in awhile. Because he did not get rid of his house. He went through too much effort to get that. 

  However, there are times that he can’t avoid the larger centres. Every once in awhile news of some dick-bag that can’t fucking follow the rules makes it way over to his corner. This time it’s a Bajang that’s getting more than a little greedy over in New York.  So Jack packs a bag, gets in his truck and prepares for long ass drive. 

  When he gets there, he sets up in a motel in Woodhaven and prepares himself for the next few nights. He is not looking forward to them. Bajang were very hard to track down because of their ability to shift into an adorable little pussy cat. You’d think that would put a curb on their appetite, but nope. Those fuckers can out eat any other vampire that Jack has ever run across, and the bodies are starting to pile up. Literally. The goblin that got in contact with Jack, ran an apartment complex, and after numerous complaints about an absolutely putrid smell coming from one of the apartment, had opened it up to find eight corpses heaped on top of one another in the living area. Now, if anyone else besides Jack had taken this job, the apartment  _ might’ve _ belonged to someone but because Jack had the shittiest luck ever ( no seriously, he’s pretty sure that he has some type of puck following him around), it doesn’t. In fact it’s been abandoned for the last month, so shit… 

 

  Two weeks later, he finally manages to track down the Bajang in fucking Manhattan. Turns out the little shit got tired of all the easy pickings down in Brooklyn and decided that Manhattan was more of a challenge. Yep, that’s right, it got tired of easy hunting. It doesn’t make any sense to Jack either but whatever, he finally has the little fucker cornered and is ready to stake it (multiple times) through the heart, when the sounds of a small scuffle momentarily catch his attention. In the time it takes Jack to quickly look around to see if someone is coming up behind him, the Bajang has shifted into it’s cuter form and is trying to make a run for it by going in between Jack’s legs.

  “Oh fuck no, you little shithead,” Jack says as he reaches down and catches it by the scruff of it’s neck, “Do you know how much sleep I’ve lost because of you?” shaking it a little bit, he gets ready to stab it when-

  "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO THAT KITTY!?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this is a short chapter but I felt really bad leaving on that cliff hanger, soooo... here you all go ^^

Jack turns around keeping a very firm grip on said “kitty”, to look at the source of the voice and is greeted to the sight of a _ very _ attractive man. Well, in a douchebaggy sort of way at least. His hair is slicked up, while being poofy at the same time and he reeks of axe products. Jack blinks and suddenly the man standing chest to er.. head with him, trying to snatch the Bajang right out Jack’s hands. Thinking quickly, Jack adjusts his grip and raises it above his head, watching with amusement as the smaller man makes an aborted little hop. 

“What,” Jack finally brings himself to ask after playing keep away for a few minutes, “are you doing?” The man cranes his head up, and for fucks sakes those are unfairly pretty eyes, still scowling, and  _ stamps his foot _ ! Jack just saw a grown man stamp his foot like toddler and his only thought was awe. What the fuck does that say about his priorities?

“Look, I’m know how crazy I’m gonna sound, but this isn’t really a cat. It’s a Bajang. A type of vampire. And this particular little shit,” Jack gives it another shake, just in case it was starting to get any ideas of escape, “has been gorging itself stupid. So I gotta stop him. Alright? Good. Now shoo.” 

“That’s it? That’s why you’re gonna murder him? What kind of monster are you? He’s missing a leg..arm?” 

“He’s killed over forty people.” Jack replied, enunciating each word carefully just in case. 

“So? He’s just a kid, probably doesn’t know any better.” the other man shrugged, while still keeping a close eye on the stake in Jack’s hand, “There are some shit vampires out there. They just make ‘em and leave ‘em. Not his fault he wasn’t taught how bite properly.” and shit, are those tears? Is he tearing up? Yep. He’s gonna cry. Alright Jack, you gotta do something, because you are not emotionally equipped to comfort a grown man crying in public. Maybe if he points out that the thing really is a killer this guy might just fuck right off and let Jack finish this fucking job.

“Doesn’t change what’s been done.” He starts before a small ‘mew’ from somewhere that is decidedly  _ not  _  Jack’s hand, and when the fuck did, whatever this small asshole is (because he sure ain't human), grab the Bajang from Jack’s hand without him noticing? Because now Jack has his hand up in the air like some kind of asshole and the hazel eyed bastard is cooing at the furry bloodsucker, like it’s a fucking baby. 

“You know what?” Jack says, bringing his hand to his side, “Keep him. I don’t even care anymore. Just keep him out of trouble, because if I have to come all the way back to this shit city, I’m gonna shoot both of you.” He doesn’t wait for an answer, nope.Two fucking weeks of his life tracking down a dangerous, bloodsucking glutton only to have some other fucking thing step in at the last minute looking like it was gonna cry if he offed the thing.  He’s 110% done with all of this, and just wants to go home and sleep in his own bed for at least a week. 

He does not notice the short asshole eyeing him up like a glass of wine at an AA meeting. He does not hear him purr to the three limbed kitty that he  _ needs _ to see if he can be climbed like an actual tree. In his haste to get away as fast as possible he fails to notice that his back pocket has become much lighter as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>  
> 
> Reference for the Bajang in case any one was wondering


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack just wants to sleep, is that really asking for too much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS!! Your comments! Oh my Goodness! What did I do to deserve such nice things? Thank you all for the kudos and comments, they give me life. They motivate to actually sit down and finish chapters. So… *Gives you all a dozen cupcakes* 
> 
> Also, I have a love/hate relationship with the tagging system here. I love it because well, it’s awesome. I hate it because, I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO TAG ANYTHING. What I’m trying to say is, if you think that there is a tag or tags that should be added, drop me a line and let me know! (it can be on here or over on my blog, whichever you’re more comfortable with) Same with if you notice any mistakes. Okay, I’m gonna shut up now *scurries away*

Fourteen hours, thirty-seven minutes later, he finally pulls up into his little gravel (salt rock scattered in as well, just in case) driveway, and after a quick look around his house to make sure that no one has decided to pay him a ‘visit’, he grabs his bag- carefully mind you, he’s got some treasures that his Kuia made sure he took with him- and stumbles inside with the full intention of passing out on the nearest soft(ish) surface. Which, was a great plan, it really was. In fact it was the best plan Jack has probably ever come up with. 

Now the reason he’s using a past-tense? Thank you for asking, the reason for the past-tense is that plan was destroyed by the  _ floating asshole  _ hovering in his living room. The sound of pottery breaking, is the only thing that clues Jack into the fact that he’s dropped his bag and  _ shit, the handpainted runes his Kuina gave him… _

“H-...HOW!?” Jack is aware that he should probably asking a few different questions, questions like, ‘ _ Why are you here? How did you find out where I live? How the fuck did you get in? Are you floating? Is thAT THE BAJANG SITTING ON YOUR SHOULDER!?” _

“Hm? Oh yeah, he wanted to tag along so I figured why the hell not.” Jack figures he might’ve said the last one out loud, which well… there’s sort of one question down and really, he shouldn’t just be standing here with his mouth hanging open. Not when there’s two potentially dangerous creatures floating in his living room as if Jack doesn’t have numerous wards carved into the walls to prevent this exact situation from happening. 

“How did you get in?” He says warily, moving out of the door and keeping his back to the walls as he starts to circle the room, making his way to the cabinet standing in the corner by the kitchen.  _  Just in case.  _

“Through the front door.” Comes the easy reply, like Jack’s front door doesn’t have salt rubbed into the woodwork. Like the door doesn’t have runes painted onto it. Like- … shit. The doorknob has nothing done to it. The doorknob is a normal brass thing he picked up at Lowes. Well, that’s gonna get replaced as soon as possible, more than likely with something silver and dipped into holy water laced with salt.

“I mean, it wasn’t even locked! What kind of maniac are you anyways? Who the fuck doesn’t lock their door?”

"I live in the middle of no- WAIT! This isn't about me? how the fuck did this become about me? Also, How did you even find out where I live?” Jack catches the slim item tossed at him instinctively.

“This is my wallet. Why do you have my wallet? How did you get my wallet?” A shrug and smirk are the answers he receives for this question.  He sighs, “Alright,  _ Why _ are you here?” No answer again, but Asshole’s gaze does sharpen and he licks his lips. Okay then, another couple inches towards the cabinet because there is no way Jack is looking forward to becoming dinner. 

“How ‘bout what the fuck are you?” he’s starting to get annoyed at the lack of answers Dickbag is giving him. 

A hum, some shifting and, oh great, he’s sitting cross-legged in the air now. Show off. 

“Look at his collar!” in the time it took Jack to roll his eyes, the asshole is in front of him holding the Bajang right in his face. It takes him a bit but he manages to uncross his eyes and see…

“It’s very… Pink. Why is it hot pink?” Jack will be the first to admit that he doesn’t know a lot about this particular Bajang but when he was wearing a lot of black before he shifted.

“It was only one I could find on short notice and because I have fantastic taste.” and clearly Jack is missing something here because, “What?”

“Are you one those guys who's really pretty but insanely stupid? You said and I’m fucking quoting here,“Keep him. I don’t even care anymore. Just keep him out of trouble, because if I have to come all the way back to this shit city, I’m gonna shoot both of you.” So, this is how I’m gonna keep outta trouble.”

“By putting a pink collar on him?” He is way too tired for this crap and they’re too damn close for him to continue inching towards cabinet. Well, neither of them really seem like they want to hurt him right now, so there’s that at least, but he would really love for them to just get the fuck out of his house so he can get some sleep. Floating asshole, Jack really needs to get rid of him or get a name because he’s running out of things to call him, rolls his eyes at him so hard that Jack thinks that they might fall out of his head.

“Yes it’s a collar but it also has spells of binding cast onto it. Since you seem a little slow on the uptake there Sweetheart, that means he can’t shift back into his psycho killer form, which means no more bodies piling up.” F.A. looks unnecessarily proud of himself and the Bajang, despite being trapped in an adorable little body, looks like he want to rip F.A’s throat out and he’s not really being subtle about it either. In fact, Jack watches as the Bajang jumps out of F.A’s arms and stalks it’s way over to the kitchen. Which is a little worrying, considering that he has no idea if the collar even works or if the other guy is talking out of his ass. F.A doesn’t even blink when the Bajang takes off, in fact he takes this as an excuse to get even closer to Jack, which really shouldn’t be even possible at this point and-

“ Are you smelling my hair?” A soft hum paired with hands that are now starting to softly make their way down Jack’s chest and very suddenly Jack is aware of how his body is starting to react to this. It shouldn’t even possible. He does not like the dickbag, he wants him gone and out of his home…

“Oh for fucks sakes... You’re an Incubus.” He says realising exactly what F.A. is and why he was able to get in so easily. Incubus’s are immune to salt to an extent and all of his wards are for demons that mean him harm. He’s got nothing for horny assholes. Shit, he really needs to try and grab something to get rid of this guy before he winds up getting, quite literally, fucked. It’s just as he’s tensing up to try and make a break for one of his blessed weapons when-  _ Poof _ \- F.A is gone. In his place is a broken container of salt on the floor, looking like it was dropped from above and looking up, he sees the Bajang attached to the ceiling by his claws both glaring and looking quite smug, down at him.

“If I let you stay the night, are you gonna kill me in my sleep?” The Bajang detaches himself, and more gracefully than anything has any right to be, falls onto the floor, lands on his feet, mews softly and makes himself comfortable on Jack’s couch. It’s not really an answer but Jack is really tired and given the fact that the Bajang can’t speak in that form, it’ll do.

“You can stay but if I find cat fur in my food, I’m going to toss into the nearest lake.” There’s no answer from the couch but he really wasn’t expecting one anyways, so he just decides to deal with everything in the morning and makes his way upstairs to  _ finally _ get some fucking sleep. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I’ve updated the tags, but I’m still gonna mention it here. Incubi have the ability to have sex with people in their dreams. Brock does this here and does not have Jack’s consent to do it. I’m tagging it as dubious consent, because in the dream Jack is (very) willing but does not know what’s happening. He does realize it later and… well let’s just say that while Brock was very happy with all of the nummy feelings he was able to feed off of from the dream, he is not so happy about the punishment he receives for doing it. 
> 
> I'm sorry. *Hides from angry carrying torches and pitchforks*
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own.

_ Jack’s cock is sliding in and out between wonderfully pink lips. He thrusts himself in so deep that he can feel himself through the his lover’s neck as he lays his hand down over their throat. Atua whakatara… he’s not going to last much longer. He tries thinking of every un-sexy thing he’s ever heard of or witnessed, almost all of them fail him. Almost. He pictures the  _ _ Katipo spider and there we go, that’s better. His partner however, has a different idea, he finds out as the suction on his dick increases and the pace is picked up. He’s so close, so… very...close... _

 

Jack does not remember making it up to his bed. He does not remember taking off his boots or actually falling into his bed, hell, he barely remembers coming home. He does remember the extremely nice dream he just woke up from. It’s hard to forget, especially when it left him with a not so little souvenir.  Groaning, he turns over on to his side, because the sun is shining directly into his eyes and takes a look at the alarm clock by his bed. He must’ve been tired, it’s nearly seven in the morning, but he’s got nowhere he has to be today. As he stretches his arms over his head and flops back onto his back, his shoulder gives a delightful little ‘ _ pop’,  _ as he gets up to hop in the shower to clean off the grime of travelling and to take care of throbbing between his legs at the same time.

 

Feeling refreshed and clean from shower, Jack doesn’t bother to throw a shirt or pants on, it’s just him in the house anyways. Who cares if he wanders around in just his boxers? He lazily makes his way downstairs towards his kitchen, maybe he’ll finish pulling down the cabinets later so he can sand them down and repaint, when his foot connects with something warm and soft. Oh right, the Bajan-... 

 

The events of last night come back to him perfect clarity and he leans forward to rest his head on the door frame to the kitchen, looking down to see what looks to be a black and grey fluffy cat with folded ears, looking  _ very _ disgruntled. Disgruntled, in fact, might be sugar coating it a bit. Downright pissed, that would be a very accurate description, but not at Jack. No, the Bajang is glaring into his kitchen as if it can set whatever pissed it off so early on fire and it’s seven in the fucking morning, what would have offended him already?  Jack lifts his head up, peers into the kitchen and… marches off into the living room to open up his cabinet full of things that are designed to get rid pōrangi demons that just can’t seem to take a hint and get lost.  

 

He grabs out canister of holy water and unscrews the top as he makes his way back to his kitchen where, yep, F.A. is still hovering, drinking a cup of coffee and humming? No. Nope. He not going to be stopping to ask questions this time. He is going to dump this all over the incubus’s head, make himself a cup of coffee and then run out to nearest hardware store and pick up silver everything. It’s a great plan. It really is. However, before he can implement it fully, F.A. is plastered fully on his back, knocking the canister out of his hands and wrapping his legs around Jack’s waist. 

“Mmmmm, you smell so fucking delicious this morning.” He says as he starts to move his hips in lazy circles against Jack’s ass, letting out little happy moans. 

 

“You have five seconds to stop humping my butt and get the hell off of me before I smash you into the nearest wall.” A long drawn out sigh, a hum and then he’s perched on the counter, somehow with the cup of coffee is back in his hands, lazily undressing Jack with his eyes, still fucking smiling. It’s too damn early for this level of happy. Jack gazes longingly at the now empty canister of holy water and decides he may as well sate his curiosity. Taking a glance towards the entrance of the hall he notices that Bajang is sitting there. Still glowering and puffed out. Jack can one hundred percent understand.

 

“It’s seven-thirty in the fucking morning, it’s way too damn early for you to be breaking into my house, again, and it’s way too early for  _ anything _ to be this happy F.A.” Jack says making his way over to the (empty) coffee maker, “Why are you so happy anyways? Is it because you drank all of my fucking coffee? Also, get out and take,” he gestures over at the, still, pissed Bajang, “him with you.”

 

“Don’t wanna.” F.A. says petulantly, licking his lips as he drains the cup, “Besides, he-” F.A. looks over at the furball, “- can’t get out of here on his own. Not with all the salt you have sprinkled everywhere.” The Bajang hisses at the Incubus before he stalks his fuzzy three-legged body into another room. Jack, on the other hand is struck with a case of deja-vu, as F.A. continues to bite and lick at his own lips. There’s something familiar about all of it… He thinks of what he knows about Incubi and-

 

_ “I’m gonna…” Jack gasps, hips moving back and forth erratically. The sinfully soft lips wrapped around him, somehow managed to curl up into a smirk. Pulling off, that talented tongue swipes over his cock head- _

 

It’s like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on him. 

 

“You mother-fucker!” Jack says deadly quiet, his green eyes glinting. F.A. cocks his head a little to the side, having the audacity to look a bit like a confused puppy and Jack is Done. The asshole went into his head and… Nope. He’s not gonna deal with that right now. He  _ can’t _ deal with it right now. Not with the shit-head responsible still sitting on his counter, like he didn’t violate Jack in his sleep last night. He looks off to the left of F.A., see the open pantry door and makes up his his mind, if he tries to banish F.A. he get’s the feeling that the dick bag will just keep coming back. So until he can figure out a more permanent solution this will have to do. He schools his facial expression, so the absolute rage and fury that’s bubbling underneath the surface doesn’t show on his face and makes his way over to where F.A. is still sitting, still looking pleased with himself. 

“You dream-sexed me?” Jack purrs, as he slots himself in between F.A’s legs and slides his hands around the incubus’s torso.

“Mmm,” he says in agreement, “I couldn’t help myself, you looked just so..tasty.” 

“So that gives you the right to let yourself into my head?” Jack says, his arms tightening as he lifts the demon up, keeping his voice light, so he doesn’t give away his plan and starts to walk them both towards the pantry door. 

“Would, you have let me if I asked you?” Is breathed into Jack’s ear, followed by sharp little teeth grazing the lobe. Out of the corner of his eye Jack see’s the Bajang dragging a vial of..  _  Is that my holy water infused ink? _  Into the kitchen towards them and he’s seriously starting to re-think his stance on getting rid of the furball. Jack smiles, making sure that F.A. see’s it before letting it fall from his face, dropping the shithead into the open pantry, pushing him down, leaping out and says, 

“Nope.” as he slams the door shut, grabs the vial from the Bajang, and breaks it on the door. The seal that he had painted on in baking soda and water, becomes visible. Convenient? Yes. But, in his defence being paranoid just payed off. The banging on the door, tells him that his house guest can’t get out on his own and, is well and truly trapped. Letting the breath he had no idea he had been holding in, out, he addresses the Bajang,

“I’m gonna make myself a fucking cup of coffee and then we’re gonna figure out what the hell I’m gonna with the two of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments give me life guys! I love them so much! 
> 
> Translations for this chapter:  
> Atua whakatara- god damn  
> Whakatara- Dammit   
> pōrangi- Idiot


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bajang has a name and gets relocated. Jack deals with the F.A. in the pantry. sort of. And resigns himself to a trip to the pet store in his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took me so long to write. I have no excuse. So I hope you enjoy over 2k of the universe hates Jack.  
> As usual not Beta'd. So feel free to point me in the direction of my mistakes.  
> Translations for this chapter:  
> takaritarita- Annoying  
> māhunga wai-Dipstick/idiot  
> ngeru-cat

 

With the FA securely locked in the pantry and the coffee pot happily gurgling out a fresh pot of magical morning brew, Jack focuses his attention on the Bajang that has made itself very comfortable on his kitchen table. He figures that is mostly because the sun has decided to focus it’s attention there, one of the upsides to being in it’s shifted form is that the sun doesn’t bother it, and cat brain is taking over more than a little by this point. That’s why Bajang don’t shift for long, the animal mind starts to take over after a certain length of time and if they stay shifted for too long they forget that they were anything but a cat. 

 

He hears the machine finish up and pours himself out a cup, drains ½ of it one go, ignoring the burning in his throat and makes his way over to deal the smaller nuisance.  Under normal circumstances he might even be a little pissed that a creature he had damn near turned into a shish kabob was this nonchalant around him, but in the daylight and with a decent night of sleep, He could see the runes that were imprinted onto the hard-to-miss collar. Sure enough, they were in fact, preventing the fluffy little fucker from shifting back into his more murderous form, and to be perfectly honest, Jack was not a cat person. He knew that… well he knows that they’re furry. He’s not really an animal person. So he makes a decision, he can’t very well keep the damn thing, and he can’t really put it up for adoption. What’s he going to say, “Adorable but murderous fluffy asshole, looking for a good home. Was once a bloodsucking vampire but thanks to magical collar, no longer does that?”, so he drains the rest of his cup and heads upstairs to throw a pair of jeans on. 

 

The alley that he carries the Bajang into actually isn’t that bad, as far as alleys go. There’s a diner nearby that throws a bunch of leftover food out, a few hidey-hole type shelters and, as far as Jack can tell, no other animals to bully the furry bastard out his new home. So all in all, it looks pretty good to him, also it’s a good 6 miles away from his house, so there is very little chance of the little asshole finding his way back. So there’s one problem solved. 

 

“Okay, well, it’s been… incredibly  takaritarita , but, this is me, saying goodbye. Enjoy your new home, really it looks amazing. And if you ever pop up on my radar again I will not hesitate to shove the dullest stake I can find into your chest.” He  says as he drops the Bajang into an empty box and goes to walk back to his truck. Alone. With no pests tagging along.

 

When he gets back to the house the peace and quiet that greets him is amazing. Sure, there is still the issue of the asshole locked in his pantry, but as far as Jack is concerned, it can wait for a bit. Right now all he wants, is to enjoy a drink while sprawled out on his couch. So of course, because he has clearly pissed off some type of deity, he hears,

 

“Are you going to let me out? Because it is really dark in here.”

 

“No!” he yells back, as he grabs the bottle of whiskey, strolls over to the couch, an overstuffed thing that he found at a yard sale when he first bought the place, grabs his book off of the coffee table and throws himself down onto… a pile of fucking cat fur. He sits there a for few moments, as the cat fur tries make a home in his mouth, and for a fleeting moment he can’t help but wonder if he made right decision leaving the Bajang behind, before, yes, yes he did. He has no idea how to care for animals and he has no desire to care for vampire, permanently turned cat.

 

"Listen up you tasty hunk of man meat” Jack rolled his eyes at the muffled taunt, (well, at least he was sure sure it might be a taunt.) but other than the small huff that escaped him, he gave no indication that he had heard anything.

 

“Look, I get that you’re pissed off for some reason and I’m not sure if it’s because it’s just your default setting or if Winter did something last night…”  _ Winter? Who the fuck is Winter?  _

 

“Are you fucking serious?” Jack snaps, as he gives up ignoring the fucker-(also, why the hell can’t he catch a break? Was it really asking for too much, to be able to relax with a book for a bit?) “Are you really pretending that you did  _ nothing _ wrong?”- and stomps over to the kitchen, stopping directly in front the, still very firmly locked, pantry. “Also, Winter?”

 

“Of course I’m serious, can’t you tell? This is my serious face, _ oh wait _ , you can’t see it because you locked me in THE FUCKING CLOSET!” there’s a loud thump, and Jack is pretty sure, from the small “fucking hell” he hears, that F.A. punched the door. Which, yeah, puts a little smile on his face. 

 

“And, Winter, is the fuzzy ungrateful asshole whose LIFE I SAVED, that decided he liked you more than me for whatever stupid reason.” Yeah, Jack doesn’t need to open the door to know that F.A. is pouting, but his words leave Jack feeling guilty. The bajang actually liked him? No. Nope. Not possible. It was a bloodthirsty creature that had the bad luck of running into, not only Jack, but the māhunga wai that managed to trap it in it’s current form. “Wait… What is that? Is that...guilt? Why do I smell guilt?” wait, what? No. shitshitshitshit. F.A. is an incubus, a demon. They are naturally attuned to the worst/exploitable of human emotions, like say for example, Guilt.  Sure enough he hears the delighted gasp that F.A. lets out before, “Are YOU guilty? Why? No no, don’t tell me, lemme guess. Is it because you locked my handsome self in here? Because that is a very good reason to feel guilty.” A small pause, waiting to see if Jack is going to confirm that guess, which he doesn’t. He’s not an idiot. “Fine. not that then. For the record, I find it pretty fucking disturbing that you don’t feel guilty about imprisoning me. Ooooh, is it about our small adorable pussycat?” Without thinking Jack sucks in a breath as thoughts of how pitiful the Bajang looked when he left him,  _ nononononono, _ “Oh it is! Now Jack, what did you do to that poor defenceless tiny thing?” Shit, he can feel the glee in the asshole’s voice even through the piece of solid fucking wood between them.

 

“Nothing.” he snaps and tries to divert the conversation back towards the demon, “I don’t have to justify myself to the asshole that Mind-Raped ME!”

 

“...You didn’t kill that fluffy fur pillow, did you?” 

 

“I did not kill him. I just... went and found him a new home.” Jack really would like this day to be over now and now that the furry asshole has a name, he has a feeling that he’s going to be getting back in his truck later and going out to find the ngeru. After he somehow gets rid of the māhunga wai lounging in his pantry. 

“New home, huh? Does it have a roof? Is it warm in the winter?” The bastard sounds so fucking smug.

“It had shelter… of a type. And food. There was food nearby.” Jack defended. He hates that he’s defending himself right now to a demon, he knows that the Incubus is playing him, but dammit, why did he have to know the fucking name? If the damn cat didn’t have a name he could’ve forgotten about this. But nooo. 

“So you ditched him. Was it an alley? Or maybe you just tossed him into traffic.”

“I did no-” Jack started but was interrupted by, 

“You know he’s missing a leg, right?”

Sighing, Jack says, “yeah, I know he was missing a leg. He seemed to getting around just fine though.”

“Well, Yeah, but it needs to be cleaned every other day, with soap and water. Otherwise it would get very infected.”

_ Shitshitshitshit SHIT. _ Jack barely registers himself taking a step towards the pantry door.

“I mean, if that happens, he could get sick, Jack. Do want him to get sick, Jackie? Do you want him to die slowly? Because that’s what will happen if that stump gets infected.”

Images of Winter weakly stumbling around and puss dripping from his left leg stump, start running through Jack’s head. Another step.

“Or maybe if he’s lucky, he’ll get attacked by other abandoned animals. I mean he can’t even defend himself properly. Poor little guy. He’s still adjusting to life as such a tiny creature.”

Jack is moving the chair out of the way, his green eyes unfocused, staring blankly at the door in front of him.

“There is of course the possibility, since you live in Butt-fuck nowhere, that maybe a wild animal will decide he’ll make a nice little snack. Do you have wolves around here Jack? I think I wolf might find him tasty.” Jack can hear sniffling noises and F.A’s voice is starting to break a little as he’s been listing what could happen to the bajang. His hand on the handle and pulling it open before… Wait. No. 

“Crap!” Jack swears as he goes to shut the door quickly. But even as the door clicks shut again, he knows it’s too late. Turning around, Jack sees the F.A. standing in his living room, Now equipped with tiny little nubby horns on his forehead and long, swishy, tail with an upside down heart on the end, stretching his arms up to the ceiling, until, even from the kitchen Jack can the ‘pop’ of the shoulder. If Jack wasn’t so pissed off about being played like a fucking fiddle, he might’ve been able to stop and appreciate the view, but he was pissed. Very pissed in fact. So when, the demon looks over his shoulder at Jack and looks damn pleased with himself, Jack moves forward to grab the smug shit-head and toss him out of his house.  

“Get the fuck out of my house.” Jack growls as he stomps towards him. There’s a ‘poof’ and the Incubus is gone from in front of him. Jack stops and prays to any god that may be listening, that for once, since he had the unfortunate meeting in that alleyway, that the demon is actually gone and Jack can get on with his life.

“ I don’t want to leave. I like it here.”  It floats down to Jack’s ears from up above him, and Jack feels like he’s going to scream. Who the fuck did he piss off? No really, he would like to know who he pissed off to deserve this torment. 

“Get. Out.” He grits out from behind clenched teeth. The muscles in his jaw clenching with the effort of not screaming, as he looks up to find the F.A. wrapped around his ceiling fan.

“But, it’s so cozy… Look at how comfy that couch looks. I bet if I bent you over it and really just pounded into you, I could dislodge that stick up your ass.” F.A. purred down to him, licking his lips and quirking an eyebrow.

“No. I don’t care. It’s my house. Get out.”

“And speaking of your ass… Have you seen your ass? It’s wonderful. Glorious even. Why would I leave a view like that?” Jack is done. He stalks off back into the Kitchen, ignoring the low whistle that follows him, and grabs the broom from corner. Coming back into back into living room, he doesn’t pause, doesn’t even give any warning, before he raising the broom up and whacking the horny bag of dicks perched on his ceiling fan over the head like he’s a fucking spider. 

“Ow, owowowowow! What the fuck! Stop it!” So Jack does. For a moment, as he flicks on the switch for the fan to start moving, before he starts again. After a few minutes of this, F.A. starts wailing and complaining that his head is starting to hurt and he feels like he’s going to be sick. Jack starts wishing that he could make the fan go faster. Just as he’s thinking of trying to find the step ladder he has stashed around someplace and grabbing the asshole, the F.A. suddenly lets go and drops down. Straight into Jack’s arms, swooning like he’s some fucking Victorian aged lady that saw something scandalous, or some shit like that. The fucker even throws his arm over his eyes and drop his his head down over Jack’s arm. 

Jack doesn’t even pause to think about what he’s doing. He marches straight for his front door, making sure he has a good grip on the Incubus, so he can’t ‘poof’ his way out of this, opens it, walks down his driveway to where the trash cans are located, drops the F.A. into them, secures the lid quickly and runs back inside. Once he’s inside, he grabs one of the pokers from the fireplace and uses it to secure his door. 

_ Fucking finally _ , he thinks as he backs up into his couch and sinks into it with a groan.  _ Peace and quiet… _

_ MEEErRRRROWWWW! _ Jack jumps up as he feels something bite him on the back, and whirls around to see… a very disgruntled looking three legged cat glaring up at him. 

“....” Jack stares for a few moments before sitting back down, this time beside the cat and not on top of him, and s ighs as he thinks that maybe, just maybe the Bajang wasn’t that bad. Sure it was more than likely going to be a pain in the ass to grab supplies for it, but in all honesty he really had no issues with the little shit.

Well, other than the fact that it was shedding all over his fucking couch again, would he be a grade A asshole if he shaved the little shit? Probably.

“You hungry?” He asks as he gets up, “I’m hungry, it’s been a long ass day so I hope don;t mind canned soup for dinner. Because there is no fucking way I am doing any cooking tonight.”  Opening the pantry, he stops. Where just this morning every single shelf had been filled with canned and dried foods, now there was nothing. 

“The horny little fucker ate all my food.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some Grumpy Demon hunter Jack. AND  
>  Some Brockubus!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a trip to the store that Jack really should have seen ending terribly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody! go and give ["Merismoth](archiveofourown.org/users/merismoth) some love for being my beta for this!  
> And also["Carpecervisiam!]() for giving me such wonderful ideas to play with with in this chapter. (Such as the entire store scene. That is entirely them)  
> Also, I’m sorry for leaving this for so long. I had a few things happen in my life that sort of killed my muse for awhile. The first being, becoming a single parent of two young girls. The second being I got a job which ate up my energy for awhile and the third being I started drawing more, which led to me signing up for the Hydra Trash book part 2. But I’m back now! Stay tuned for *gasp* actual plot on it’s way into this.

  
  
  
  


Jack opens all of his cupboards and his fridge three times before he has to concede that, yes he is indeed out of food.The lonely cheese slice and a mouldy bag of fruit do not qualify as food. And now the damn Bajang is yowling at him for  _ some  _ fucking reason. 

 

“What!?” He yells out of pure frustration, because really, did F.A really have to eat  _ all _ of his food? The little fucker even ate the coffee beans he had in there and Jack doesn’t even want to think of how he got the cans open. He wasn’t even in there that long! Where the fuck did he put it all? Jack sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose and realizes that the fucking bajang is yelling at him because it- HE’s probably just as hungry as Jack. Jack doesn’t even know when Winter ate last. Well, shit… He looks at the clock on the ancient stove and it’s still early enough to make a store run. 

 

However, he looks down at Winter, “What am I going to do with you?” He doesn’t feel very comfortable leaving a newly cursed ex-vampire alone in his home, even if he wasn’t the one that did the cursing. But, he doesn’t own anything that he can use to contain the cat either. Not to mention his last attempt to lock a monster up in his home didn’t work out great.  Do regular people take pets with them shopping? How would that work? He knows that Winter can understand him. It is getting the cat to  _ listen  _ to Jack that’s the problem. He’ll just have to chance it.  Winter is looking up at him with his eyes narrowed into what Jack imagines used to be a terrifying glare but now just looks adorable.  

 

“If we want to eat, we gotta go out to grab some food.” Winter looks like he would be raising his eyebrows if he had any, and looks towards the door. Jack follows his gaze to see... Oh fuck… F.A. is floating there with his face pressed up against the window. Literally. He looks ridiculous with his nose against the glass and- _is he drooling?_ _Why is he drooling?_ He looks over at Winter, who is very pointedly looking at Jack’s chest. His bare chest. Because he neglected to put a shirt on earlier.

 

“Really!?” He shouts towards the door, “ Are you really that horny?” he stomps back up the stairs to retrieve a shirt, and find some fucking socks as well. 

 

Sitting down on his bed, Jack cradles his head in his hands and wonders how the fuck this is his life. He has no idea how to deal with an incubus. They so rarely cause a lot of trouble that he doesn’t really deal with them. Not to mention that there is so much conflicting lore on them. Each culture has a different view of most demons but for the most part there would be at least a _little_ consistency. With Incubi the only thing that could be agreed upon was the fact that they seemed to feed off of… lust? Strong emotion? Sex itself? Jack scrubs his face roughly, scratching at the beard that is growing. For the most part, the incubus seems harmless, a little obsessed with Jack but not really doing any harm. Except for stalking Jack… and breaking into his home… and invading his dreams to feed…Okay, maybe just _mostly_ harmless.There is a small thump from the doorway of his room. Lurking just outside the threshold is the Bajang, his tail thumping the ground. Jack’s stomach _growls,_ reiterating that, yes, they needed to leave the house, so Jack is going have to deal with F.A. Which was going to be a pain in the ass and he was not looking forward to it. 

 

“He’s not going to go away, is he?” He looks at Winter. For his part Winter looks just as resigned as Jack feels.  _ Well, If you can’t beat him,  _ Jack thinks,  _ or in this case, if you can’t fucking get rid of him… _ With a groan, Jack gets up, makes his way down the stairs and stops in front of the door.

 

“If I yell at you to go the fuck away, are you going to?” F.A. smiles widely and shakes his head. He still looks like he’s going to pounce on Jack the very second he’s able to. The asshole know he’s gained some ground already, for fucks sake. _Son of a bitch…_ They need to have A Conversation and doesn’t _that_ just suck balls? But in the meantime, Jack is hungry, Winter is hungry and F.A. is just going to have to deal or Winter might just eat him. And honestly, Jack will probably cheer him on at this point. 

 

“We’re hungry and we’re leaving.” Jack opens the door, “Don’t touch anything and  _ stay the fuck out of my bedroom. _ ” Winter  follows behind him as he pushes past F.A. towards the truck. Honestly, he doesn’t even  _ care  _ if the horny fucker goes into his room and jacks off on his bed at this point. He just wants to  _ eat _ . Well, buy food so he can make something to eat. No way he’s  wasting money on crap pizza.  Winter jumps in the truck after him. As Jack starts up the old truck he looks back to see that the incubus has disappeared and is mildly surprised to find that he is not inside the truck either.  _ Maybe  I actually got rid of him. _ Jack smiles  at the thought as he backs out of the driveway.

 

_ Why me. _ Yet again when he’s left the cart with Winter  guarding it, he returns only to find no less than eight bottles of lube and ten boxes of condoms, all of them sized  _ extra large _ . Winter is glaring at what seems to be an empty spot next to the cart. Honestly, he really should not have been surprised.

 

“ _ Really _ ?” Jack hisses, “Do you really have  _ nothing  _ better to do?” For a few moments it seems like just maybe Jack might have lost his mind before, yep, there he is. Floating next to the cart,  _ giggling _ . 

 

“Come on, snookums, we’re going to need supplies. Wait, is it not enough?” F.A. pauses and his eyes widen a little too theatrically before he whispers, “are the condoms too small?”  

 

Jack’s face starts to tinge red as he manages to sputter, “are the- NO THEY ARE NOT TOO SMALL!” Too late, he realizes that he’s yelling and the odd glances tell him that no one else can see F.A. _ Great… _

 

F.A. gives Jack’s crotch a pointed look and cocks his head a little. “Are you sure? You seem like a big guy  _ all _ over.” He winks lasciviously. 

 

Jack’s as red as the tomatoes he’s pretty sure he grabbed earlier “My dick-” A little old lady glares at him on her way past and he lowers his voice with an embarrassed nod. “My dick is very reasonably sized, you little shitstain.” The incubus gives a self-satisfied little hum Before Jack can start to lay into him there’s an “excuse me, sir” off to his side. 

 

The store’s security guard is standing there, looking at him threaten what appears to be thin air. He is also unfortunately exactly the kind of attractive Jack normally goes for. Because isn’t that just his fucking luck as of late. “I’m going to have to ask you leave the store, please, sir.” Jack takes a breath in and lets it out slowly. It’s not this guy’s fault that he has to kick Jack out of the store for yelling at nothing. 

 

Jack gives what he hopes is a reassuring smile to the cutie in the pressed shirt. “Sure, no problem, but would it be possible to check out first?’ He  _ is  _ aware of how rough he looks, at least. F.A. pops up beside the guard and gives them both a mischievous look.  _  No...oh nononono  _  The incubus narrows his eyes shrewdly at Jack and smiles slowly. Jack can only watch as a red mist encircles the poor guy and his eyes go a little hazy. 

 

“Stop it.” Jack hisses as the guard starts to squirm, his hips moving in the air a little bit. Jack finds his own pants getting tighter. Winter huffs and he can feel the disdain rolling off the cat. He’s pretty sure that it’s all directed at him, too. 

 

“Why?He’s putting on such an adorable little show for you, Jackie. Just look at him… humping the air like that.”

 

“No. Stop it right now!” Jack tries to ignore how much he’s enjoying the ‘show’. Because really, he  _ shouldn’t  _ be. This poor guy was just trying to do his fucking job. 

 

“He’s thinking of you, you know.” The Incubus ignores Jack, clearly enjoying himself.“Thinking about you tossing him down onto the bed, kissing him, taking off all his clothes…”  

 

Oh  _ shit _ . That really shouldn’t be as hot as it is. This isn’t right, he has to put a stop to this.

 

“Do you think I can make him come from just this?” The question stops Jack cold. 

 

“What?” he asks dumbly, there is no way he heard that right. Because  _ why _ ?

 

“Do. You. think. That. I can. Make him. Come from just this? Make him mess up his nice little slacks, just from thinking about you plowing into him?” 

 

Despite his better judgement, Jack says, “No. I don't think you can.” 

 

The Incubus's smile grows. “I bet you twenty dollars that I can.”

 

“Fifty says that you can’t- Wait? What the fuck am I saying?”

 

“Too late, bet accepted. Watch carefully now.” Jack watches, stunned, as the guard’s hips thrust a little faster before he lets out a small punched out groan and a damp spot appears on the front of his pants. Jack has to wait until the mist has dissipated entirely before he lunges forward, catching F.A. by surprise and slams him up against the nearest wall. 

 

“ He aha hoki tāu!?” He snarls right into F.A’s face, not caring if the asshole understands him. The fact that the Incubus is still sporting that same smirk on those pink, full lips… Wait. No!  _ Not  _ the point!  _ Very much _ not the point right now. 

 

F.A. licks those lips, slowly, before leaning up into Jack’s space and whispering, “I have no fucking clue what you just said but  _ fuck  _ that’s hot.” 

 

“Tūtae tara,” Jack growls, but his attack is interrupted by  F.A.’s hand massaging the very prominent bulge in his pants.Oh  _ fuck _ , that’s right. He almost forgot the effect that little show had on him. If  _ that _ didn’t make him feel like a terrible person. Winter bangs his head on the cart handle and his tail waves agitatedly, but that’s not what makes him pause. No, what makes him pause is the sheer amount of people  _ staring _ at him. At first he thinks that it’s because a man of his size is leaning against the wall the way he was and talking to himself but nope. Taking a deep breath he mutters, “Please tell me you’re still fucking invisible.”  The way the demon’s expression changes tells him that, shit, his guess is correct. Everyone can see them.  _ Both _ of them. Which is infinitely worse than Jack looking like he’s having an attack of some sort. Now he looks like a psycho that attacks people for no reason. Because of course F.A. is in his human form at the moment.  _ Shit.  _

 

“Sir, step away from him.” The guard’s shaky voice comes from behind him, and Jack hates his life  _ so much _ right now because of course the guard is now up. He slowly turns around to face him and see’s that, yes, he does have a taser pointed at him.  _ Aeha… _ He really should’ve seen all of this coming, given his luck as of late. 

 

Just as he really should have seen the guard taking him putting his hands up as a threatening sign. He  _ really _ should have seen the entire scenario ending with him on the ground, the guard over him yelling “Don’t worry! I’ve got him!” as he convulses on the ground.  

 

He sees Winter booking it out the door and hears someone ask F.A. “Are you alright, dear? That looked so terrifying!” His vision starts to go dark as he listens to F.A. placate whoever is showering him with concern. “Oh my, you’re such a brave young man, what’s your name?” 

 

And right as Jack’s vision fades, he hears,“Oh, I’m not really…And it’s Brock, sweetheart.” 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PORN AHOY!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter, Because I think I actually need to for this. 
> 
> Lots of sexy times ahead but please mind the dubious consent tag. Like seriously. Look at the tags. I updated them for a reason. All the sex that happens in this chapter is very Dubious consent because Jack does not give his permission for any of it to happen.   
> Also, there is terrible things that are going to be happening for the plot for this and I'm going to try to warn the best I can for it but if I need to add more tags to properly warn people please send me a note and let me know. 
> 
> SO  
> the warning for this chapter is...  
> ANIMAL ABUSE.  
> it's heavily implied and kinda(???) graphic. so if it's not your thing for any reason skip the very last part from 'It’s just as Jack’s resigned....' like it's right at the end.
> 
> Other than that. this chapter is like 97% porn ;) enjoy.

When Jack wakes up, the first thing he notices is that there is a heavy, warm weight on his torso and what feels like a pair of hands running across his chest. Which is actually very nice feeling, comforting even, so he relaxes into it for a minute before he remembers. Jack’s eyes fly open to see F.A.- _ ‘ _ _ And it’s Brock, sweetheart’  _ sitting on him with his hands dangerously close to Jack’s nipples. Jack goes to to try and throw the Incubus off of himself but finds that he can’t fucking move. At all.  Jack turns his head a little to see that yes, he’s fucking tied down to his bed. Sighing he goes to glare up at  _ Brock _ (which is a stupid fucking name, F.A. suits him better in Jack’s opinion), who just smirks down at him and rolls his hips right over,  _ not now boner!  _  Jack thinks. 

“What. are you wearing?” He asks, as his brain catches up to what his eyes are seeing, because there is no way he isn't hallucinating right now. 

 

“What? Don't you like it?” Brock asks, looking down at Jack coyly, while  _ still _ wiggling his ass around. Like he  _ knows _ Jack is desperately trying win a battle with his own fucking body. He's starting to think that it might be a losing battle however, because Brock, being absolute colossal asshole that he is, has decided to wear a fucking  _ sexy nurse  _ outfit. There is no way that he didn't alter it to fit his male body either, because the low cleavage top sits beautifully on his,  _ sonofabitch,  _ really well defined chest. Jack really can't help that his eyes have decided to take a trip without his permission and his gaze travels further down to see that the skirt cuts off at just the tops of the Incubus’s thighs. His very muscular thighs, that Jack is certain he really wants to touch right now and for a second is disappointed that he can't. Until he remembers who those thighs belong to and starts to struggle to get free for an entirely different reason.

 

“Let me out, you fucking dick head!” he (tries) to snarl. 

 

“hmmmm, no.” Brock says shifting his body a little further up Jack's body, causing the skirt to ride up a little and the new position puts Jack's gaze eye level with the  _ fucking lace panties  _ that Brock is wearing underneath everything. 

 

_ Ffffuuuck,  _ Jack thinks as his dick decides to jump at the sight. Seriously, when this is all over he's going to need to a sit down with his penis and have a  _ Conversation  _  about when it's appropriate for it to do things like that. Because right now is not the time. 

 

“Besides, why would you want me to?” Brock asks, and  _ oh shit. What is that!? _ Jack thinks as he feels something start to caress his cock. Both of Brock’s hands are still firmly planted on his chest. Which must mean that… his train of thought is cut off and his suspicions confirmed when he feels the button on his jeans being popped off and his fly being lowered down. Jack really regrets his earlier decision that morning to not look harder for a pair of clean boxers because the goddamn tail wraps around his dick and gently pulls it all the way out. The smirk that's being levelled down at him is just pissing him off. He’s about to open his mouth to give Brock a piece of his mind when the tail starts  _ move _ and Brock’s hands move at the same time, thumbing over his nipples in little circles. Jack is pretty proud of himself for not letting out the moan that wanted to leave his mouth. He’s less proud of the fact that his cock goes from  _ this is sort of interesting  _ to  _  DIVERT ALL BLOOD FLOW HERE NOW _ . it doesn’t seem to matter that it hurts a little because there is nothing easing the way, but he’s pretty if this keeps up it’s not going to matter.  _ Where the fuck is that damn cat when he needs him  _ because this would be a very good time for Winter to show up and help him. 

 

“Oh sweetheart…” Brock coos, bringing one of his hands up to Jack’s mouth to remove his bottom lip from where he had been biting it, “you shouldn’t be hurting yourself like that.” he finishes as he leans down and licks at it a little bit, “let me kiss it all better” Brock murmurs , before pressing his lips to Jack’s and pulling him in for kiss. It’s chaste at first, which given what other parts of Jack’s body Brock is playing with, makes Jack want to laugh. But when the tail somehow manages to start massaging his balls and rub over the head of his cock, smearing the fluids that have started leaking from it, Jack can’t help but gasp. Brock of course takes this as an invite to start plundering Jack’s mouth with tongue. 

 

It’s just as Jack can start feeling his balls start to tighten up and he’s so close… Brock pulls away from his mouth and the tail pulls away. 

 

“NO! FUCK!” he yells at Brock who is just sitting there licking his own lips.

 

“What’s the matter?” The asshole has the nerve to ask him, while cocking his head to the side looking confused. “Were you close to coming? Did it feel so good that you were about to cover my tail and your stomach in come?” Jack watches as the tail comes up to Brock’s mouth and Brock licks off the pre-come that’s smeared on it. 

 

“Now listen here, you ure ngongo-” whatever else Jack was going to say was cut off by the tail entering his mouth, pressing his tongue down. Brock tsks at him, “I think it’s only fair that because you’ve made me wait for long, that I get to make you wait a little bit longer. Don’t you think that’s fair Jack?” he asks as the tail starts to thrust gently in his mouth.  Has Jack mentioned he he hates his life. Because he does. If he could get himself free, he could…  _ do something _ .  _ Anything!  _ He can’t even try to reason (beg) Brock to do anything right now because he’s too busy slobbering all over the fucking tail. All he can do is watch as Brock lifts himself off off of Jack, so he’s not sitting on him but hovering a little, and pulls the panties off of himself. 

 

“In fact… I think you should make it up to me a little Jack.” Brock says as his cock bobs free in front of Jack’s eyes. Jack is pretty sure that Brock is using his power just a little bit because his head feels fuzzy and all he can think is how pretty Brock’s dick is. Which… yeah, even the part of Jack’s brain that managed retain a bit of blood flow thinks that the uncut cock in front of him is gorgeous. It’s such a lovely colour and the juices glistening at the tip, look delicious.  

 

“Yeah… I think that’s wet enough.” and the tail is being pulled out of his mouth. Brock sets his knees down just under Jack’s armpits, putting his dick just out of reach of Jack’s lips. But… if he leans up a bit and sticks his tongue out he can just get the tip a little. So he does just that and the shudder that goes through Brock’s body gives him a moment of satisfaction before, “Who said that you were allowed to do that?” is all Jack hears before Brock shoves his entire length into Jack’s mouth, pausing only when Jack gags a bit, and for a moment Jack thinks that as far as it’s going however, it seems that Brock has other plans.

 

“Come on now darling, just a little more…” He coos as he starts to push his hips forward again, causing Jack to force his throat to relax, until he feels Brock’s balls up against his chin and hears Brock sigh, “oooh that’s nice. You feel so good wrapped around me Jack.” a finger traces around Jack’s lips stretched around Brock’s dick, “you look even better than I thought you would too. I should keep you like this always. Just gagged on my cock all the time. I think it’s a much better use for your mouth rather than hurling insults at me all the time.” Jack feels the tail’s wet tip stoke down in his cock and moans. He feels Brock’s cock jerk in his mouth when he does.He feels Brock shift some more as he leans down, forcing his cock further in, and braces his hands against the headboard. He definitely feels it when Brock starts to moves his hips to fuck his face. Jack can’t help himself when he starts to try and move his hips so he can rub up against the tail that’s just been lightly stroking him. It doesn’t help much, because the tail just moves, so he can’t get the friction he  _ needs _ . His moving around causes Brock to stop and turn his head to see what Jack is trying to do. 

 

“Oh Jack…’ He sighs as he pulls himself out of Jack’s mouth slowly and lifts himself off the bed. “That looks painful.” He continues as he fucking meanders his way around to where Jack’s feet are. 

 

“Here. Let me just…” and with that he fucking rips the jeans off of Jack’s body. Leaving  him completely exposed to Brock’s gaze. He hates to admit but the asshole is right. His cock is so hard, it’s turning purple and it’s smearing his pre-come into his happy trail everytime it twitches. He feels Brock climb back onto the bed between his legs and start to drag his fingernails lightly into the skin of his inner thigh, as he leans down to  _ fucking nuzzle  _ at the base of Jack’s dick. 

 

“You’re so messy Jack…” and holy fuck does he ever want to make a clever retort to that but then his dick is engulfed into the wet glorious heat that is Brock’s mouth and all he’s capable of babbling, “Aue, Fuck ... e mana'o na pai. Kaua e mutu. tēnā mahi e kore fucking mutu…” as he tries to thrust up, because he  _ needs just a little more… _ He can feel Brock’s fangs graze him a little as the bastard drags them along his shaft before he pulls off entirely. Jack is so hard it hurts now and he’s ready to do damn near anything for Brock, if it means that he’ll be allowed to come anytime soon. 

 

Brock waits until Jack’s breathing return to what seems to be a normal level before he reaches behind himself and… pulls out a fucking blue plug. Jack’s eyes widen, as Brock leans forward, sets the plug on the table beside his bed, straddles his torso, grabs Jack’s cock to line it up with his hole and slowly sinks down. By the time he’s finally balls deep, Jack is shaking so hard he’s pretty sure that his dick is vibrating. 

 

“Here’s what’s going to happen Jack. I’m going to ride you until I come all over your pretty, pretty tits,” Brock growls and holy fuck that should not sound that sexy. In fact Jack is pretty sure he should not be enjoying this as much as he is. He’s especially sure that he should not be enjoying the way the tail has suddenly decided to join in again, because it’s decided to start brushing against his hole, putting more pressure with every pass until it manages to wiggle it’s way in a bit and it kind of burns with only his own spit to slick the way, but with Brock sitting on dick, he’s pretty sure that it’s not going to be an issue. He misses when Brock leaned down to his but he’s there whispering, “and you’re not going to come at all. You’re going to lay there and be my little toy for bit and if you manage to be a good boy and be patient, I’ll give you a nice treat afterward. Okay?” Jack wants to argue. He wants to argue so fucking bad but he can’t because his dick is firmly in charge at the moment and it just wants to fucking come! So all he does is nod vigorously, will himself to be still, as Brock leans back and starts to ride his dick like he’s really just a glorified dildo. It’s damn near impossible to be still however when the tail inside of him finds his prostate and starts to rub against it. So he plants his feet and thrusts up, when Brock is bringing himself down and he’s judging from the moan that leaves Brock’s mouth, he’s not in too much trouble for that. It doesn’t take long after Jack started to actually participate to get Brock to come. He doesn’t give Jack any warning either, all Jack feels is the tail go still inside of him, Brock’s ass clench down hard around him and then there’s warm come hitting his chest. It feels like forever as Brock rides out his orgasm on Jack and is so.fucking. Close, it’s not even a little funny. If Brock doesn’t get off soon he’s going to come whether he wants to or not. 

 

 

_ In fact… _ Jack thinks, if he can just thrust a couple more times… it’s as soon as he decides to do just that that Brock fucking pulls himself up and throws himself onto the bed beside Jack.   _ FUCK MY LIFE _ !! Jack screams in his head. He was so close and he knows that Brock knows it, because the fucker is smirking at him he lazily rubs his come into Jack’s chest. Paying special attention to his nipples again. Jack is so done with this, he just wants to get free and jerk off. He doesn’t even think that his nipple are that sensitive until Brock leans up and starts to bite at them. 

 

It’s just as Jack’s resigned himself to his new fate of being tied to the bed for the rest of his life that he hears a  _ thump _ against the bedroom door. Brock looks up annoyed and hisses “What did I say about not interrupting Winter!?” Instead the meow that Jack expects there’s just another  _ thump _ . This one louder than the last one and another one immediately after that and  _ what the actual fuck? Is Winter throwing himself against the door?”  _ it’s just as he can see Brock is getting ready to leave the bed and open the door to see what Winter is up to, that the door is kicked open. Jack pulls at the ropes around his wrists again, this time because he needs to not be fucking helpless right now. It doesn’t help that he can’t really see what’s going on because of how he’s tied there, but he does see Brock looking like he’s been frozen on the spot.

 

His eyes are wide and he looks terrified with his hands in front himself. He looks like if he could move he would be running and doesn’t that fucking bode well for Jack, while  _ he naked on the fucking bed with the biggest case of blue balls ever! _  Jack cranes his head as much as he can towards the door only to see a blonde man in a suit, which really wouldn’t be that scary, except for the fact that in his right hand is a long tuft of fur and dangling from that fist is a very beat up looking Winter.

 

“Knock, Knock.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:  
> Aue, Fuck ... e mana'o na pai. Kaua e mutu. tēnā mahi e kore fucking mutu. = Oh, fuck... that feels so good. Don't stop. please don't fucking stop.  
> ure ngongo = cocksucker.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we all hate Pierce  
> Or  
> Winter and Brock's past invites itself in and bad things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the updated tags please! 
> 
> Also, everyone thank the wonderful ["Merismoth](archiveofourown.org/users/merismoth) for taking the garbage I wrote and making it all lovely!  
> And as always @Carpecervisiam, for being the encouragement I needed and continuing to willingly yell headcanons about this AU with me

Jack can only watch as the man steps into the room and stalks towards Brock.  He drops Winter without a second thought. Like the Bajang really was nothing more than a glorified door knocker (and for as much of a little shit head Winter could be, Jack is  _ really  _ not okay with whatever the fuck this situation is). 

 

“You know, it's really very rude not to at least greet a guest coming into your house,” the man says as he nonchalantly punches Brock in the stomach, causing the incubus to fall to his knees with a pained groan.

 

“Yeah well, most guests wait until I answer the door and invite them in before they start attacking. So you're not exactly Ms. Manners over there.” Not Jack’s most clever comeback but come on, he's still naked and tied to his bed. The man chuckles darkly, which does not make Jack feel better. At all. 

 

“I can see why you like him so much, _demon_. You always did prefer your marks _feisty.”_ Jack has no fucking clue who this dickwad is but he's already done with him. So Jack tugs on the ropes holding him a little, making sure that Sir Fuckface sees him do it.

“Why don’t you let me loose and I’ll fucking show you how  _ feisty _ I am.” He bares his teeth, thinking of how fast he can get to the knife taped to the underside of the bed. 

The asshat just tilts his head and  _ smiles _ . Quite frankly Jack isn’t sure if he wants to even classify it as a smile. It’s a slow, mean thing that’s more teeth than anything and the lack of  emotion in the man’s eyes makes Jack shudder. 

“Why would I do that?  _ It _ ” - he gestures dismissively at Brock - “went through the trouble of wrapping you up all nice for me.  It seems like such a waste to just undo all the hard work that this useless creature has done.” His hand fists into Brock’s hair and pulls Brock’s head up, forcing the incubus to look at his attacker. “Isn’t that right, defiler? You must’ve known I was coming and wanted to beg for my forgiveness? A pitiful attempt to earn your way back into my good graces? Why else would you have a  _ gift  _ ready?” 

Brock snarls at the taunting and Jack can see the demon that he is coming through  _ i pai ai.. _ He’s coming out of whatever stupor he was put under when the maniacal asshole walked in. 

“Fuck you, Pierce!” he spits viciously, “I don’t do fuck all for you anymore, so go eat a dick!”  

Impossibly, Pierce’s smile gets even darker as he gently strokes Brock’s face before the  _ slap  _ resounds through the room. Brock’s head snaps hard to the side, hindered by the hand firmly in his hair. 

“Still so vulgar…” Pierce sighs, his voice filled with mock disappointment, “I thought I trained you better than that, but it looks like a few months away from me have made you and the little bloodsucker forget any of the manners I took the time to teach you.” Jack and Brock can’t help but glance at the small bundle on the floor. Winter is so  _ still  _ that Jack is scared that he’s dead for a moment before remembering that Winter is not a normal cat. He’s a vampire, it’ll take more than a brutal beating to kill him. At least, that’s what Jack is hoping anyway. He’s gotten a little attached to the furry asshole. 

Jack’s attention snaps back to Pierce and Brock when he hears his name and whatever context it was just used in was not pleasant, if Brock’s face is any sort barometer.  _ SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT _ , why wasn’t he paying attention?! This seems like a thing he should’ve been paying attention to, but he’s pretty sure he heard something along the lines of, ‘put on a show for your darling Jack’. 

His heart drops into his stomach as he watches Pierce drag Brock across the room, occasionally giving his head a rough shake and a few harsh kicks when Brock tries to fight back. Pierce stops next to the bed and stoops down to...do something. Jack can only move his head so much and being blind in his left eye...well, it makes seeing things on that side a little difficult. Which is  _ really  _ not helping his feeling of dread, because now he can’t even see what the fucker is up to. He turns his head as much as he can and regrets it immediately.  

Brock has been forced to the ground, his hands wrenched behind his back with a length of rope -  _ where the hell did he find that? - _ the rest looped around his neck and wrapped around Pierce’s fist. Jack watches in horror as Pierce starts to pull, slowly cutting off Brock’s air supply.

“Stop it!” Jack yells, “you’re gonna fucking kill him!”

Pierce pauses as he gazes over at Jack, who feels like a bug being pinned to a corkboard. 

“Well, isn’t this interesting,” he says as he jerks on the rope, watching Jack’s reaction. “You’re a demon hunter, aren’t you, Jack? You track down and kill demons, correct?” Jack lets out a breath before he nods tersely, not liking where this conversation is going.

“So why do you care whether or not I kill this demon? Is it because of some hopelessly naive moral code? Something along the lines of… you only kill them if they’re  _ bad _ ?” Brock’s face is getting redder and his breathing is ragged and wheezing. “Do you think that Brock over here is just a lost little thing?” Pierce laughs as Jack reddens, “you do, don’t you? You think he’s irritating but harmless. Oh, that is  _ adorable _ , Jack. You have no idea the things both him and that useless ball of fur have done. But… that’s a story for later, I think. For now…” He trails off as he lifts Brock up and throws him on top of Jack. “I believe we were trying to put on a show for you, Jack. Afterall, I so rudely interrupted something.”  

Jack can’t see past Brock’s body on top of him but he feels fingers lightly stroke near his dick and,  _ oh fuck no, that is  _ not  _ happening _ ! Jack tries to twist away from the invading touch. But then Brock goes tense again, sputtering for air and before Jack can do or say anything else, Pierce is fucking  _ tutting  _ at him.

“Now, now, Jack. Be a very good boy and keep still, so I can play with you for a bit. I’m certain that Brock will appreciate it if you do.” 

“You son of a bitch,” Jack growls as he feels the hands feather over his stomach but he makes sure not to move a muscle. He can hear Brock inhale deeply as the rope around his throat is loosened slightly. He can’t help but tense as hands continue roam his body. He looks up and, holy fuck, Brock looks  _ terrible. _ Which… yeah. Jack can’t imagine anyone looking wonderful after everything that’s happened to Brock in the past…what, 20 minutes?? That can't be right. Jack tries to pretend it is literally anyone else running their hands over him, but fails when the gross slimeball’s fingers start circling around his loosened hole as Pierce makes a pleased humming sound.   He fucking  _ hates _ his dick hasn’t gotten the memo that  _ it shouldn’t be hard enough to cut diamond.  _ Is it possible to train a dick to read a room? 

Brock suddenly goes still on top of him and he feels something wet splash onto his forehead just before the screaming starts. 

Jack cranes his head as far as can and nearly throws up as he sees the incubus’ skin melting.

“The issue, Mr. Rollins, is that you view these  _ things _ as equals. Even when you're hunting them down, you think that they are capable of experiencing things the way we do and they do  _ not. _ ” The asshole dips his fingers into the container he's holding, pricks his thumb and draws a sigil into Brock’s forehead right between his tiny nubby horns. All Jack can do is watch as it burns through the skin, smoke leaking from the wound as Brock writhes in agony. Pierce loops the length of rope that he has around Brock’s neck over the top of the headboard and ties Brock down on the floor as if he can't hear the demon’s screams. 

“Stay right there. I'll deal with you when I'm ready.” Pierce turns his attention back to Jack.  _ Fuck. _ This is worse than Jack thought. He thought he had been dealing with a regular nut job, maybe another hunter, not a fucking  _ insane  _ priest.  _ Crap, this is bad, _ he thinks, as Pierce picks up his belt off the floor and examines it, as if deeming it worthy for the task Pierce was planning. 

“You assume that they can be  _ saved, _ ” the mad man sneers, as he runs his fingers up Jack’s side again, “you are blinded by your compassion, Jack.” His voice is more gentle but the way the belt is being held makes Jack doubt that he's going to enjoy this next part. 

The arm goes up, the belt unfurls and he hears a crack before a line of pain sears across his torso. 

“ _ pokokōhua!”  _ he shouts as the belt cracks down repeatedly across his chest, the buckle catches on his ribs and  _ fuck _ , he's gonna feel  _ that  _ for awhile. Provided he lives through this, that is. 

“I believe that's enough pain for now,” he hears through a haze of pain,and a weight settles right over the fresh marks. 

“Now.” Jack’s face is caught in what feels like fucking talons that force him to look his tormentor in the eye. “This can go very easy, or very hard, Jack… it's really your choice.” The fucker has the nerve to make it sound like he's doing Jack a favour, like Jack actually has any real choice. 

“What. The. Fuck. Do you want?” he spits. Yeah, he's in pain and can't move but that doesn't mean he's going to do what the fucker wants. 

“What does anyone want?” Pierce shrugs, “I want to make the world a better place, Jack. Humanity is corrupt… and scared. Demons like the ones that weaseled their way into your good graces feed off that energy.” 

Oh for fuck’s sake, really? Is he really  _ monologuing  _ right now? Seriously. Godfuckingdammit, he's stuck with a two-bit B movie villain now. He's rolling his eyes when he spots movement from the corner of his eye. Making sure that Pierce is still going on about how _ humanity needs to be controlled, they can't be left to govern themselves, _ he turns his attention towards where he saw movement…wasn't Winter closer to the door before? … he was! It's slow but he can see the puff ball inching his way over to where Brock is still whimpering in pain. 

He yelps as his balls are suddenly squeezed in a punishing grip, pulling him back to the fuckface

“Jack, you're very lucky you're so pretty, because you are not a very good listener, are you?” That disappointed look still manages to look smug and Jack wants to break his teeth so badly. “That's alright. You'll learn.” 

He starts to snarl something back when a flurry of movement off to his right grabs his attention.  _ Holy shit,  _ he'd honestly forgotten how terrifying Winter looked when he wasn't in kitty form.  Winter grabs Pierce by his throat and tosses him like a pillow across the room, watching impassively as Pierce crumples into the corner by the door. Jack nearly pisses himself when those cold blue eyes turn towards him. Thankfully he has nothing to worry about as Winter just tears off the ropes around his wrists.

“Get that shit off him,” Winter growls as his teeth elongate and he stalks towards the now cowering priest. It takes a few seconds to click but when it does, Jack moves quickly to untie Brock, glancing at the collar Brock’s Tail is waving at him excitedly and shuffle them both out of the bedroom and towards the bathroom. The agonized screams that follow them down the hall make him a little sorry he isn’t staying to watch. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Traslations: i pai ai = an expression of relief. Ex: thank goodness
> 
> pokokōhua = a strong curse. Ex: Fuck
> 
>  
> 
> ["My Tumblr!](http://neutralchaos1.tumblr.com/)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone thank the wonderful Merismoth for looking this over and correcting my insane amount of mistakes!  
> all the remaining mistakes are mine =D  
> And as always @Carpecervisiam, for being the encouragement I needed and continuing to willingly yell headcanons about this AU with me

The screaming from the bedroom is replaced by whimpering that follows Jack as he carries Brock to the bathroom. He flicks the lights on as all sound stops and Winter’s shadow moves from the bedroom doorway before he stalks to where Jack is standing dumbly. Silently he nudges Jack the rest of the way into the bathroom, looking pointedly between the tub and the semi conscious incubus in Jack’s arms before shutting the door. 

 

_ That’s not… worrying at all. _ Jack forces himself not to think about the implications as he sets Brock down on the closed toilet seat. He adjusts the taps until the water reaches a comfortably warm temperature. It’s only when he turns back to Brock that it hits him.  _ What now? _ Does he just put Brock, still wearing that ridiculous nurse’s dress, into the water and leave? Or does he undress and wash him? Should he go get Winter to help him? This should not be this awkward, Jack is still naked for chrissakes. Just standing there and staring isn’t getting shit done, Jack wearily hefts Brock up again and starts to undress him Brock startles awake just as Jack finishes unbuttoning the costume and begins struggling. Jack instinctively tightens his grip to keep hold of the suddenly  _ very  _ squirmy Incubus and it takes longer than he will ever admit to realise that Brock is trying to  _ get away _ from him. Jack releases him and takes a step back with his hands held out  in a placating gesture. Brock looks so terrified that Jack keeps moving backwards until he bumps into the wall by the door. Worse, Brock  _ flinches _ away from him, his entire body jerking, so Jack tries to make himself look as nonthreatening as possible. 

 

“You should… uh… I was... I was just trying to get you into the tub to rinse that shit off,” he gestures to the drops of holy water still smoldering on Brock’s skin, leaving trails of knotted skin in their wake. Brock stares blankly down at himself, like he’s just seeing it all for the first time. Jack steps forward to try and help but  Brock snarls and snaps, “it’s  _ fine _ ,” while glaring straight at Jack, daring him to argue. “I’m sure there’s something else you can be doing so I can finish up myself.” 

 

Jack knows he’s being dismissed, so he backs out of the bathroom and shuts the door. Just because his houseguests don't seem to respect  _ his  _ privacy doesn’t mean he’s going to do the same to them. The sound of the lock flicking closed is a bit of a surprise but Jack isn’t going to stand there and ponder that right now. 

 

Jack considers the rest of the clean up as he makes his way down the hall back towards the bedroom.  _  Fuck, _ he’s gonna have to burn the bed, if how much his torso hurts is any indication, there’s more than likely blood on the mattress ( _ no he hasn’t fucking looked _ , _ he’s had worse.) _ There is no way he’s gonna be able to sleep in that one now. Looking around the room maybe he should just board up the entire room. He can fix up one of the other ones and just sleep in the living room in the meantime. That one corner ( _ the one that Winter threw Pierce into _ ) is covered in blood (and other fluids that Jack isn’t even going to think about) and no body or Winter to be found. There’s nothing to indicate how they left. No footprints or drag marks across the floor. It’s the absence of those things that makes Jack wary and sends chills down his spine.  _  No. you just stop that.  _ He slams the door closed and stomps down the stairs towards the kitchen. He needs a fucking drink.

 

Brock comes down the stairs just as the milk for the hot chocolate reaches the right temperature and Jack pours in  the powder and whiskey. The incubus is wearing what is obviously one of Jack’s t-shirts, the collar sitting too large on his shoulders, and a pair of soft looking sweatpants that Jack honestly forgot he owned. His skin, red and scrubbed raw, makes Jack grit his teeth and push every last ‘what the fuck!’ down deep for now, even if he stirs the pot a little harder than necessary. It leaves them in an awkward silent standoff of sorts. Jack wants an explanation and Brock very clearly does not want to give one. Which is fine. It just it’s gonna suck to be the Incubus, because Jack figures he  _ deserves _ answers after all that. 

 

“Where’s Winter?”  The soft but gruff question breaks the silence between them. 

 

Jack glances back with a shrug.  “Dunno. He was gone after I left you in the tub. Same with… you know. Him.” The silence once again fills the kitchen and Jack’s not saying another damn word until he has a drink in his hand. The back door opens, bringing a welcome distraction from the silence.

 

“You cannot be  _ that _ messy of an eater.” Winter comes to a stop between them, covered in far too much blood and smelling like burnt meat. He takes in how far apart they’re standing, noting the tension.  Winter’s glare is far worse now than when he was an adorable kitty and was done with their shit. Given how often Jack has seen that look, he really should be immune to it. With a growl Winter stomps over to Brock and starts to drag him towards the living room, directing Jack to follow with a glare. Clearly he expects Jack to follow. Well, Jack will be the first to tell you that he’s a contrary son of a bitch and as much as he wants to go collapse onto his couch, close his his eyes and never ever wake up again, he’s going to stand right here in his kitchen, drink his hot coco and go out there when he’s damn good and ready. Not because some fuzzy shithead that’s now the size of a horse and built like a brick house told him to. His resolve to do just that stands strong when Winter comes back - still looking Death’s shepard - and levels  _ a look _ at him. Jack leans into the counter, stares back, and meets the look head on. Even his coco has turned against him, burning his tongue as he tries to out-glare the bajaang.

 

_ When did world go upside down? _ Jack is suddenly staring at his floor, his cup is sitting on the counter and the kitchen tiles become hardwood floor before he’s hefted right side up and placed onto the couch. Brock is bundled on the other end in what looks like every blanket Jack owns. More than a little stunned at the sudden end to their showdown, Jack glares at Winter’s back as he pads out of the living room and up the stairs. The sound of the pipes groaning to life signals that Winter has opted to wash himself off. 

 

“Don’t suppose you remember where his collar got off to after your tail took it off?” Jack asks conversationally, really not appreciating being manhandled like that.   _ Fuck you puff-ball, I don't care how big you are, I don't have to listen to fuck all. _  His ribs _ really _ don’t appreciate it when he attempts to get up.

  
“I'm pretty sure that I dropped it on the ground in the hall.” Brock whispers, his voice hoarse.  _ Well, fuck. That means he already found and got rid of it.  _ Jack relaxes back into the cushions with his arms crossed, not caring if he looks like a petulant child.  If the incubus that's probably older than him can do it, he can, too. He fumes in silence.

**Author's Note:**

> translations (courtesy of Google, so I'm sorry)  
> Kikokiko: Spirits. Maori  
> Kuia: Grandmother. Maori  
> Rewera: Demons. Maori  
> Mara: A type of demon that causes and feeds off nightmares.  
> Bajang: A type of Vampire that shifts into a cat.
> 
> Come and talk to me over [ Tumblr!](http://neutralchaos1.tumblr.com) I promise I don't bite


End file.
